


Displeasing The Entity, One Trial At A Time

by fordoomthebelltolls



Category: Dead by Daylight (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M, Multi, WIP
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-24
Updated: 2020-05-10
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:15:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23816764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fordoomthebelltolls/pseuds/fordoomthebelltolls
Summary: There are some cardinal rules of the Entity's Realm. Emotion is the feast of the day. You never escape. And even if you do, the killers keep coming. You can't fight back. You can't prolong the inevitable.This is what happens when one man says "sod it" to all of that.
Comments: 5
Kudos: 24





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Good Lord, I haven't written fic in years. Hopefully, people enjoy it. Let me know who you'd like to see in focus chapters! Warning: this may get a little heated, but I don't think it'll devolve into outright smut. At least, not yet.

David collapsed against the concrete wall, sliding down it to a sitting position, holding his midsection. His breath came in short, labored bursts, and as his hand came away from his side, he could see the glinting red signs of his wounds. Sod. This was terrible. The collapse was right there, on the edge. They’d completed a few of their tasks, hastily rewired them into functionality, but they hadn’t been able to outrun their pursuer. They hadn’t been able to escape. And here he was. Worn out, desperate, alone. With that masked little shit.

The smile pasted on that masked face was so infuriating. Blood spattered across its face. Dwight’s blood. He had been the first to go. After the generator exploded, a bungled crossing of wires, he bolted for a locker, hoping to hide from the wrath of their pursuer. It didn’t help him. He was yanked out, thrown onto its shoulder, and impaled on a hook. Dwight tried to free himself, but it only brought the Entity faster. The spidery legs impaling him, dragging Dwight up and away as David desperately lunged forward, trying to save him from his fate, still haunted him.

Every time. Every time, it hurt him inside. Sure, he put the tough face up. He was the rough and tumble one, the bruiser, the confrontational one. But it still fucking hurt. This was his team, his squad, and if he lost one it meant he’d failed. It meant he hadn’t taken the Killer’s attention long enough. Other people were smarter, faster, able to get those generators working better. He was just the big, loud one. He was the one that kept them looking his way. Until he didn’t.

Nea had been too bold for her own good. She’d blinded the vicious little fuck through its mask, made it drop poor Feng, but all that did was draw its attention. A deep, hacking cut later, and she was panicking, wounded, and didn’t know where to go in this meat-packing maze of hell. She was dropped with a slice of the knife, dragged to the basement, the out of place wooden hell that always seemed to crop up no matter where they were dragged to, and left to hang. David charged down and dragged her out, as he was inclined to do. Even took a shot for her from the little masked bastard. But it didn’t help. It had decided that it wanted to murder Nea, and it would get what it desired. Finding her, tracking her down relentlessly, all David had been able to hear was her screams. He found her body, growing cold, eyes wide, and scooped up the flashlight she’d brought, promising to use it for good. To use it to give them a chance.

A pipe dream. While David was busy trying to get the last generator done, hands fumbling gracelessly with repairs that he had never been meant to make, Feng had fallen afoul of their predator. Another scream. Another failure. He’d ripped them from the hooks, urged them on, taken hits and bellowed for a challenge. And every time, David had seen his comrades fall before he did, as if his grunting, masked pursuer had known what he was trying to do and refused to fall for it. And now here he was. Bleeding, no way to patch himself up, less than fifty feet from salvation, but for the thing looming before him.

He could hear the thumping heartbeat in his ears, his own heart working overtime and being pumped straight into his ears. The red glow, cutting a threatening line between the hatch and his salvation. And there wasn’t really much he could do. Except throw one last bit of defiance in the bastard’s face before he got his last. King way, eh? Make it a fucking fight before they take you.

David dragged himself up to a standing position, setting his jaw and tightening his grip on the flashlight. He was going to be fucked if he went down without trying. With an anguished bellow of “COME AND HAVE A GO IF YA THINK YOU’RE HARD ENOUGH!”, he pushed off of the wall with his free hand, feet thundering beneath him as he charged forward. The adrenaline gave him enough room to move, enough speed to try, and as the mask came into view, the glinting knife raising, he swung with his right hand, whipping the haft of the flashlight up and around into the killer’s head.

He didn’t expect it to do anything. He’d tried to fight back at first, throw down with them, but they never seemed fazed. It was like the universe warped around the sick rules their captor had set for them, forced them into a box that they couldn’t escape and denied them their avenues to freedom. Even those he should have been able to overpower were gifted with truly unnatural strength, able to overcome even the mightiest of survivors. So David was surprised, almost as surprised as his target, when his blow took the smaller figure off his feet, sending it spiraling into one of the walls, the smiling damned mask skidding one direction and the knife, still stained with Feng’s blood, in another direction, clattering up against a locker.

Huh. Lamping the bastard actually worked.

David looked beyond the crumpled figure, through the window to the opened metal hatch, swirling with the darkness of the void beyond, the keening howl of wind rushing through it to the fall, the seemingly endless tumble through the void that would inevitably deposit him in a crumpled heap right beside the fire, waiting until he was snatched away again. All he had to do was run. All he had to do was run, and he was free.

But his eyes tracked down as he contemplated it, down to the stirring, groaning figure at his feet. The red glow was gone. His heartbeat had receded from his ears. All that remained was the hoodie-clad figure, clutching at its face as it looked up at him...no. As he looked up at him.

The face under the mask was rough, jaw squared, covered in dirt and calluses, a faint layer of stubble covering his face. His eyes were wide, a deep russet brown, wide in shock and fear, a familiar one for David by this point, but an unusual expression to be seeing on a face like this. The voice that floated up from him was similarly shocked, even a bit offended. “What the fuck, man? That’s...that’s not the rules...” It’d be pathetic in any other situation. As it was, it was just surreal, even beyond the reality-warping nonsense he had been forced to acclimate to.

David let out a nervous, confused laugh, looking down at the man. Practically a boy, all lithe muscle and defiance, even in a moment like this, where his entire reality had just been thrown arse-over-teakettle. “Y...you’re a kid...” he managed to stammer out, torn between laughing and weeping at the pure absurdity of it all. Here he was. Looking at a kid. What was he, nineteen? If that? He looked like the sort of person that would be absurdly proud of his chin scruff, what little he’d been able to scrape together. Defiant. Yappy. Like a dog. Like an angry, stabby Corgi.

“I’m not a kid! Fuck off!” The kid pushed back defiantly, hand pressing into David’s wound and earning a groan of pain from the bigger man. David dropped to a knee, hand flying to his side, and the younger man surged up and forward, lunging towards the locker, towards his weapon, towards his duty. David’s other arm came up, wrapping itself around his target’s midsection, and he charged forward, shouldering the smaller man into the concrete and earning an agonized yelp of pain from him.

Looking up again, into his eyes, David gritted his teeth. “So here’s how it’s going to go, fancy boy. You’re going to stand back. I’m going to jump through that there hatch, yeah? And you’re just going to have to be okay with three. We square?” He looked the smaller man in the eyes, and the set of his jaw told that he would take no questions, brook no defiance. Still, he tried to brook it anyway, lunging forward with a headbutt to the flat of David’s head that rattled him, but only for a moment. David grinned, shaking his head. “In for a little Glasgow kiss, are ya? Well lad, let me show ya how we do it IN MANCHESTER!” He lunged forward and headbutted the smaller man on the bridge of his nose, a burst of crimson erupting as it shattered, blood flowing down his face and staining David’s forehead as he grinned, a vicious, unremorseful grin.

The smaller man slumped to the floor, groaning and wheezing gurgled breaths through his shattered cartilage, trying to wheeze out a desperate protest. Why should he give a shit about this little tosser, eh? He killed his friends. Nobody got to just do that and walk away. David stalked back to the locker, setting the flashlight down and scooping up the knife. A Glasgow kiss was the least of what he was going to give this sadistic bastard. “Oi. Fuckface. Eyes up here.” The young man struggled to oblige, and David twirled the knife between his fingers. “Used to be smiling, didn’t cha?” His head jerked over towards the mask, clattered and discarded on the floor. David dropped to a knee, placing his thumb on the back of the blade, and fishhooked the boy's mouth open with a finger. “Let’s fix that now, shall we?”

As he began to slip the blade between his lips, the boy whimpered, a mumbled, desperate whine slipping from his throat as his eyes closed and he brought his hands up to them. As he did, one of the sleeves of his hoodie dipped slightly, revealing a braided red and grey bracelet. The letters “F.J.S.J.” were barely legible through the grime and blood, bold black letters pulsating against the fabric. David’s hand stilled for a second as he whimpered, and the hot drip of tears mixed with the blood draining down onto his hand softened his glare for a moment. As he listened carefully, he began to hear names among the sobbing. “J-Julie...Susie...Joey...oh God, oh God, I fucked up, oh fuck, oh fuck...”

This was the first time he’d been held to account, David realised. It was the first time he’d actually been overpowered like this, forced to feel the kind of helplessness that he had inflicted on others. There was a voice inside David that whispered in his ear, said _Good, let the little blighter piss himself. Let ‘im be afraid before ya pay him what he’s owed._ He wanted to listen to that voice, to take his bloody revenge. For Dwight. For Feng. For Nea. For all of them, time and time again. He wanted to pay one back on the Entity’s little bitch, make him bleed the way they bled. But there was another voice. A stronger voice, a louder voice, that said _Sod off with that. You’re better than that, yeah? You’re David fucking King. And David fucking King doesn’t pick fights with kids bleeding and weeping in terror._

Slowly, and not without a bit of regret, David pulled the knife back, setting it aside, out of the boy’s reach. He stared at his face, peeling back one hand, then the other, leaving his face bare. The boy’s eyes opened shakily, peering back into his own, and David forced a smile on his face. “Oi. None of that. Look at me. What's your name, kid?”

Clutching his nose, the boy pushed it back up with an agonised shriek that startled even David. After a moment, he inhaled through his nose, sneezing out a glob of blood before replying hoarsely through pursed lips. “Frank. I...I’m Frank.” He managed to meet David’s gaze, fear melting away to confusion. “Why...? Why did you stop?”

“Why?” David snorted a bit. “’cause I’m better than you, that’s why. Now.” He brought his hand up and tapped a finger on the bracelet. “Now. Julie. Susie. Joey. Who’re they?”

“They’re my friends.” Frank grumbled a bit, looking away. “They got taken with me. Sometimes it’s me out here. Sometimes it’s them. I...I was the one that got us taken.” He glared back at David, defiance creeping back into his voice. “Why the fuck do you care, anyway?” Frank pushed at David’s chest, trying to climb back up to a standing position. “Just fucking go. I’ll deal with my punishment myself. Don’t need your pity.”

“Fuck off you don’t.” David shook his head, hooking an arm under Frank’s. “Look at you. You were crying like a bitch, shaking like a leaf, bleedin’ like a stuck pig, pissin’ like...I dunno, something that pisses a lot.” He shrugged, his similes failing him. As he held Frank up, staring into his eyes, a thought flashed across his mind. A bad thought. A terrible thought. One that was liable to get him chewed out by the old Yank with the smoking habit. What was his name? Ben? Bob? Bill? Yeah, Bill. Bloody Flowerpot Man tellin’ him how to survive. He’d been here longer than the old man, he knew what he was fuckin’ doing.

David looked to Frank again, cracking his neck. “Right. So. New plan. You’re coming with me.”

Frank looked back at him in bafflement, only able to croak out a “W-wha?” before David scooped him up onto his shoulder, walking around the corner. Frank grabbed uselessly at the mask on the floor, and David dipped in his stride to pick it up, shaking his head and grumbling as he walked to the hatch. He had no idea if this was going to work, but he had to try.

David looked over at Frank, still wiggling and struggling as he hefted him, and thumped him slightly with the handle of the flashlight. “Quit your wagglin’, ya shit. Is that what it’s like? No wonder you lot are pissed about it. So. Here’s the deal. I’m going to throw you through that hatch, and we’re going to find out what happens.” Frank barely had time to open his mouth and register a protest before David shrugged him off and forward, sending him tumbling head-first into the yawning mouth of the hatch. Not waiting for any backlash from the Entity, David closed his eyes and jumped, tucking his knees to his chest in a cannonball as he plunged through the hatch. The clang of the metal swinging shut echoed above him, plunging him into darkness, alone, away from Frank and all the others. Now, they’d get to find out just what in the hell actually happened.

No matter what, was likely to be a fun trip, yeah?


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Frank gets to meet his new companions, and learns just how different it is on this side of the firelight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaa thank you all so much for your responses! I was so nervous posting Chapter 1, and I'm really glad you enjoyed it! As a side note, after maybe this chapter or the next, I did design a set of Survivor perks for Frank. Let me know if you folks would like me to include them in a pre-chapter note!

When Frank came to, he saw a woman’s face above him. A young woman, with kind features and cool, ochre skin, eyes like fertile soil, lively and dark, tended to him, carefully changing the dressings on his nose. “You should be careful not to upset David.” Her voice was kind, soothing, like aloe on a sunburn, tinged with the slightest Quebecois accent. He recognized that accent all too well...and he knew that face. What was her name...?

“Claudette.” The name came, raspy, through hoarse lips. She blinked, nodding, and tilting her head to the side. Frank pushed his way off the log behind him, staggering unsteadily to his feet, and Claudette stood up, hand protective on his arm. It was cute that she thought she could protect him from anythi—

The ground came at him faster than he thought. Frank fell flat on his face, and Claudette rushed to pull him up as best she could, grunting a tiny bit as she shook her head. “Your nose was very broken when you got here. Thankfully, the Entity makes us whole...so we can be better bait in its trials.” Her voice was tinged with a bit of frustration, but she shook her head, banishing it with a bit of cheeriness. “Here. Come to the fire. Some are gone, but most are here. Let us go, oui?”

Frank nodded slowly, and Claudette led him away from the small clearing they had been sitting in, towards the distant glow of a fire. In the distance, he could hear two voices, arguing back and forth. One was older, scratchier, American. The other was far more familiar. David. Frank’s memories rose, unbidden, of being pinned against the wall and flung about, and he felt colour flush to his cheeks. His ears pricked up as the noise resolved itself into words.

“—you fuckin’ kidding me, kid?! The Entity don’t give freebies! Who knows what this’ll cost?!”

“Does it fucking matter, y’old bastard? You should’ve seen the shit. He was making bleedin’ Dwight look like Richard the Lionheart. DWIGHT!”

A hurt, whiny noise floated up from behind the two voices. “Heeey...”

The American voice pushed on. “Nah, kid. We figure out a way to get him back and we move on. I know you got a heart, but this ain’t the time. This is a war.”

“Fuck it is, y’geezer.” David fired back, fists clenched as Frank and Claudette quietly approached the edge of the clearing. “It’s a fight for survival. And y’know what helps with that? Numbers. Smarts. And you know what he is?” He stabbed a finger in the vague direction of the two, presumably where he thought they had gone. “He’s someone who’s got a better line on how the bleedin’ Entity works than any of us! No matter how long we’ve been here! And you just want to toss him back to the fucking wolves? Nah. Sod off.” David turned to walk away. The old man—Bill, Frank vaguely recalled—grabbed at his wrist, but David snatched it away, his strength advantage and youth letting him brush him off.

Frank stepped out of the treeline, and he felt every pair of eyes on the clearing drawn straight to him. The faces were all there. New, old, the ones that got funneled into the realm and the ones that had been there before he recalled. He’d hurt a lot of people. He’d hurt all of them. Put hooks through their shoulders, knives through their bodies. He’d killed them. And now he was here among them. No weapon, no backup, nothing. Nothing but a little prayer. And the vague hope that David and Claudette, at least, would be his backup.

As David’s eyes tracked up to Frank’s, his gaze softened, and he walked over, placing a hand on Frank’s shoulder. “’ey. You coming around alright? I got ya good there a few times, eh?” A forced smile crossed David’s face, and Frank almost laughed at the sight of David trying to be comforting. It wasn’t exactly the easiest thing in the world for the big man, and Frank, somewhere inside, registered the significance, even if he didn’t quite understand why. As Frank nodded slowly, warily, David nodded again, looking to Claudette. “Best medic was on it. Even if the Entity wasn’t giving us a pick-up, she’d have you put back together right quick.” Claudette bowed her head, offering a soft smile to David. “So. You’ve heard the old man’s opinion, but don’t let it fester, you got that?” A quick squeeze of Frank’s shoulder followed. The left shoulder. Right where the hook went. He felt a phantom pain all of a sudden, but disguised the wince with a grimacing smile and a nod.

Exhaling slowly, David looked around at the surroundings, keeping himself slightly in front of Frank just in case something happened. “Y’know, it’s funny. Normally we wake up around this place right as a daisy. Guessin’ your…unique circumstances might be why you still had it rough.” He paused, nodding. “Right then. If you’re gonna be here for a spell, might as well introduce you to some of the others. Entity’s been taking more than one group for trials, so we’re not all around…but y’might know something about that.”

Frank nodded on instinct. He did. It felt like he was being called on more and more. Not that time was easy to perceive under the Entity’s grasp, but it felt like it was feeding more often. That had been a double-edged sword. On the one hand, it meant that Frank wasn’t cooped up all the time. On the other, now that he was getting to know his victims, it meant that he’d been hurting them a lot more. Not that he particularly regretted it. Him or them, easy as that. Nothing to apologize for, nothing to show remorse over. They would have done the same thing, and if they didn’t…well, the Entity had its ways.

The first figure that David and Frank came to was an all-too-familiar one for the Canadian miscreant. A nervous-looking young man, constantly twitchy, with a white button-down shirt and red tie dangling limply from his neck, glanced over to meet them, taking an instinctual step back before forcing himself to hold his ground. David gestured between the two. “Frank, this is Dwight. Dwight, Frank. I’m guessing you might’ve known that already.”

“I-I didn’t realize you had a n-name. Kind of silly, when you think about it.” Dwight forced a smile onto his face, offering a trembling handshake. Frank looked down at it, regarding it with the sort of confused revulsion with which you might study a mackerel that had leapt over the side of a boat and was laying on the floor, flopping mightily. He looked back up at Dwight, looking him in the eyes for a few long seconds before flinching forward, as if to attack. Dwight covered up out of instinct, yelping a bit. “Aah no not again!”

Frank chuckled, only for David to give him a swat across the back of the head. Frank winced, clutching his head and glancing back. “Ow, fuck! Okay, fine, sorry.” Frank offered a hand in return, reluctantly, and Dwight looked at it with fear, as if the knife would materialise at any moment. Frank grinned, looking him in the eyes as best he could with Dwight’s twitchy, aversive habit. “Relax, man. I ain’t here to hurt you. Not right now. I’m in the same boat as you fucks thanks to Big Bad David back there, and he’s got me on my best behavior like some sort of correctional officer.” Frank jerked his head back a bit at David, who just grinned. Dwight visibly relaxed a little, and Frank paused. “Unrelated question, is that detective guy here? Something tells me we’re not going to get along.”

David shook his head, and Dwight reached out reluctantly, slowly taking Frank’s hand. Frank shook it for a moment before pulling Dwight in, earning a yelp from the timid young man. Frank’s voice is low, insistent. “I got nothing riding on you, buddy. You want me to be nice, you gotta earn it. Understood?” He roughly shoved Dwight away, beginning to walk off, only to hear the rushing sound of stomping feet thundering after him. Frank turned around, hands up as he sauntered backwards casually, instincts proven correct as he saw the furious expression on David’s face. “What? I’m just laying down the law. Got a problem with that?”

A stern nod came from David. “Matter of fact, I do. You ain’t got shit to lay down here. Entity has us all by the short ‘n’ curlies, and you’re gonna try to throw your dick around? You ain’t got the size, sunshine. I’m putting my arse on the line for you here, don’t fuck it up. Here, I’m going to find someone a little less gun-shy. Maybe that’ll go better.” David’s eyes scanned the campfire area, and they lit up a little as he found the person he was looking for. “Ah. Here we go. This oughta be a treat.” He beckoned Frank to follow him, and after a moment Frank reluctantly moved forward, sticking his hands in his pockets sullenly.

The two men approached a figure hunched over on one of the logs, a lithe young Asian woman with blonde hair, visibly dyed, and a pair of goggles perched on her forehead. She looked over, glaring at Frank before her gaze slipped to David. “Nandeshou?” The question was blunt, clipped, almost like a strike all its own, and Frank visibly flinched at it. David chuckled, and the smaller man looked over with an expression of protest on his face, not too visibly different from Dwight’s own indignant reaction earlier.

Looking between the two of them, David gestured from Frank to the woman and back again. “Frank, this is Yui. She’s newer, didn’t show up until a little while back. Yui, this is Frank. Eh…” He rubbed the back of his neck. “You probably already know who Frank is, given how loud the old man was being.”

Yui nodded again, once, short and sharp. When she spoke again, her English was accented, but clear and well-enunciated. “Of course. I don’t forget assholes who stab me.” She spun up onto her feet, stalking towards Frank. “Let me make one thing clear, motherfucker.” The curse fell heavy from her lips, and Frank was startled by the impact it made. Maybe it was that she was cursing in what was clearly not her native tongue. Maybe it was just the defiance being shown by someone physically smaller than him for once. Probably all of the above. “You fuck with me? I fuck you up.”

The bluntness hit both men differently. Frank was visibly taken aback, taking a step back and raising his hands defensively, ceding the territory to Yui’s fierce determination. He already had few allies and many enemies, he didn’t want to add another one to the pile. David, for his part, doubled over laughing, clutching his midsection. He howled with glee, shaking his head and glancing up at Yui. “You’re something else, you know that? Fuckin’ love you, woman.” He offered out a fistbump, and Yui returned it without ever breaking her gaze on Frank. David shook his head, wheezing a little still, and looked to Frank as he straightened up. “You all right, kid?”

“Nnnope.” Frank deadpanned, looking right back into Yui’s eyes. “Look, fuck, stop glaring at me like I’m some shit on the bottom of your boot. ‘cause I’m not.” Yui cocked an eyebrow in a clear expression of disagreement, and Frank continued hesitantly. “So…hey. If I’m here, I gotta play by your rules. And that means I gotta be nice, ‘cause it’s my ass if I don’t. I’m not here to start any fights. For once.” The last few words come out in a sideways grumble, and Frank sticks his hands in his hoodie pockets again, nearly pouting at having been made to be something resembling politic.

Claudette came wandering up behind the men as Yui nodded slowly. She looked over Frank’s shoulder at the Québécoise woman, who nodded and gently placed a hand on Frank’s shoulder. He flinched a little, glancing back, but visibly relaxed when he saw who was touching him. Yui’s eyes shifted back to Frank, and she took another step forward, coming chest to chest with him. She glared up into his eyes, her words razor-sharp. “Watching you, warugaki. Don’t start none, won’t be none.” She mimed watching him with two of her fingers as she stepped back, sitting back down on the log to watch the fire as David and Claudette turned with Frank to walk away.<

Frank shook his head, exhaling through his teeth as his frustration boiled beneath the surface. Sure, he was being a bit of a punk, but if they didn’t have a sense of humour, that was on them, not him. He looked to David, and David opened his mouth to start explaining, but a shout in the distance got his attention. Claudette took the opportunity to interject, flashing her friendliest smile. “They have long memories, even if Yui’s hasn’t…had the time to grow that some of us have. She’s very defensive. It took David a long time to get her to open up. Again, for what time means here…”

A quick nod came from David as he refocused. “Yeah. Don’t let it bother you. But do keep it in mind. She ain’t the only one who’s gonna want to throw hands if you step out of line, and I ain’t always gonna be here to mother hen you. Speaking of, don’t mind me. Bloody Romero’s got something she needs. Always something…” David shakes his head, stalking off as Claudette looks to Frank again. She was about to open her mouth when they felt a rumble pass through their bodies and into the ground, a tremor that carried with it nothing less than a shadow of fear. Claudette froze in place, closing her eyes and whispering quietly. “Merde.”

A reaching, crackling noise surrounded them, and Frank looked around, nervous. “What’s going on?” He saw the sky swimming, the still darkness rippling into the motion of a thousand greedily grasping limbs, and a chill took his heart. This was what it meant to see things that man was not meant to know. Joey had said that phrase once, and it had stuck with Frank. He looked to Claudette anxiously as the rippling unfolded into familiar chitinous limbs, and without a word, she reached over and took his hand. Even though his hand was much larger than hers, he felt the calluses on hers, rough-worn and earned from hours of labour, and Frank felt a strange sense of comfort wash over him, even as the limbs unfurled fully before wrapping around both him and Claudette, yanking them away and into the darkness. All he could think before the black enveloped him again was two simple words.

_Fuck Lovecraft._


End file.
